


The Student

by c0rn



Category: The Breadwinner (2017)
Genre: Character Study, Child Soldiers, Gen, It's pretty obvious anyway, The Taliban, some cameos from the characters in the movie so try and spot them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 18:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14431107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c0rn/pseuds/c0rn
Summary: (A.K.A: طالب)Before the inevitable, Idrees is given the chance to review everything that had happened in his life up to that point.





	The Student

**Author's Note:**

> If you happen to have a chance to take a look at the movie's official website, there's also a character info for him there under "creative team". It sheds some light as to what made him the way he was. Originally, I wrote a fic that's centered on him because despite the awful things he did in the movie, he's pretty easy on the eyes so, uh, I like him??? And my first draft is about him getting a mini-redemption type of episode but it was too OOC so I made a new one and this is the result.

Idrees could sense as he laid in the middle of a battlefield the darkness beginning to cloud his vision. In his eyes, one can see a great fear within them. With his own eyes, he can only see his life flashing before him.

Like most people, he could never remember what it was like on the day he was born, how he celebrated his first birthday, nor the feeling of being able to walk for the first time. But he remembered a time in which the world didn't seem so dark and where life for a child was, once upon a time in Kabul, Afghanistan, innocent.

It was a brief but peaceful period and although it wasn't all good, it was an uncomplicated existence. He remembered growing up as someone who was of no use and insignificant, a grey rat of the family as they say. He remembered the relentless teasing he received from other children. He remembered going to school and studying as hard as he could. He could read, write, and recite stories that his teacher had told but no one was interested. He eventually learned that without anyone to tell it to, stories were useless and he considered himself too old for them at an early age.

Suddenly, his only hope right now was to join the Taliban. It offered status, a sense of purpose, and an honorable way to feed his family. As a young boy, long disillusioned with a life that had been marred by a lack of self-confidence, Idrees was the perfect student.

The training was intense. It was the first time Idrees had ever held a gun in his hand. There were many boys there his age whose some stories were the same as his with the others being different but they were all there for one reason and one reason only: to fight the enemies of Islam.

Some wanted to be heroes or great warriors. Some wanted vengeance. And for some it was a race in order to rise within the ranks and one day become a man of value and importance. Not everyone necessarily promised to the core values of the Taliban, and some of those who did felt they had no choice or it was necessary to become the man they wanted to be. And no one wanted it more than Idrees.

Idrees, as a result, was no longer the child everyone once knew. He was ruthless, loud, and unhinged as he enforced the harsh and strict interpretation of Islamic Sharia to people. He became feared. He had the power. He looked for any excuse to get righteously offended on behalf of the Taliban if it meant he could beat up or arrest anyone over the slightest perceived offense to the point that he had his crippled teacher taken to prison on the grounds that the teacher was teaching the women with forbidden books, or so he insisted.

Speaking of women, he has eagerly taken the belief that they should cover themselves or stay inside where they belong to say nothing of his eyeing of the teacher's daughter who has yet to become a teenager herself to the point of wanting to marry her. Idrees showed on that day that he was not a man of conviction or fate. His longing for a sense of individual meaning has warped him into a monster, not even caring whom and how he hurt people along the way.

While also working in his uncle's kiln, he bullied two new workers who were only children, milking their feebleness for all its worth. Unaware that one of them would fight back, he earned a brick to the face for his troubles causing his nose to bleed. So as they escaped, he chased them down with a gun on his hand, yelling as if he was charging to fight in a war.

And then, his uncle had called out to him, saying that it has begun and they had been called off to fight. He was still shouting for the children to come out of hiding and he accidentally pulled the trigger of the gun, the noise startling him. Still slightly bloodied and wide-eyed, he grudgingly made his way onto the back of a truck and sat down. The heat of the desert did not stop the cold sweat beginning to run down his head as the vehicle drove off.

There it was in front of him: the battlefield. The noise of gunfire, still fresh in his mind, left him petrified when he was expected to charge. Everyone was yelling at him to do something, anything. He could barely use the gun he held in his hand.

He closed his eyes and strengthened his resolve. He opened them again, now with a steely gaze. It was time to fight the enemies.

His fellow students were there as he looked around. Young boys charged into the field where the bullets flew and bombs went off. Idrees ran with a loud cry but his feet did not take him very far. Just a second ago, he was looking at the face of a student running beside him. One explosion later, a splatter of blood on his face was all that's left of the boy. The body which lay near his feet on the ground resembled anything but a human.

More loud noises pierced his ears. Idrees was not only petrified, but he seemed to have been stuck in time. One by one, they fell or disappeared in a flash of thunder and fire planted on the ground. Chaos flew into the sky and fell back on him like rain. It was quick, but it also went on for a long time. His senses began to disappear as his fluids streamed down his legs. His dignity hanging by a thread, he made one last attempt to use the weapon and managed to pull the trigger, firing automatic shots into the air prompting the enemy to send a hail of bullets in his direction.

Idrees felt a great sting on his side and pressed a hand against it out of instinct. When he raised it to his face, there was blood, a lot of it. He keeled over, cringing from the pain. A dark red puddle threatened to pool underneath him and the darkness in his vision was creeping in. But before it could, tears that had been sitting in the corner of his eyes finally flowed like a river. There was no stopping them.

Time had paused again and his life all came rushing back to him. It was getting closer now as the sound of bombs and guns were dying down for him. He tried to remind himself of what he was taught: if he gave his life and died fighting, he would go to Paradise, to live in comfort for all eternity. Dying in battle was always considered an honorable way to go.

It did nothing to soothe him and his tears were bitter, full of regret and shame. The breath in his body was going scarce. He tried to clench his fists but failed. He couldn't look up enough to see the sky engulfed by black smoke.

"I'm scared," he whispered. "Help me... I'm so scared…"

For the first time in a long time, he had said the words in his heart. It was beating so fiercely, overflowing with honesty and all that he had tried to hide had spread out in his spirit. But he couldn't remember what happened after that because it was the end.

There was a bright light.

There was peace in the air.

In a distance, a nice little house awaited.

Idrees was now on his way back home where his wife and child were waiting. As he opened the door, he was greeted with a kiss and held his baby boy in his arms, spinning him around the air.

"How's my little Sulayman?" he said.

Everyday was hard work but it was worth it for the food he brought back home. They enjoyed a delicious dinner every night.

"Things always looked better when your belly is full," his wife once said.

Years went on and their son grew to be a healthy and cheerful little boy, running around the yard. Idrees played with him on the weekends. Their favorite game was playing soldiers. That brought him back and it was hard to believe that the war he had fought was still happening today even as a decade had passed. What's important was that the war would never touch his family again.

His son was shaping up to be a very handsome young man and had brought home with him a beautiful girl. They would not marry right now, but he and his wife approved of her immensely. The young lovers often dated.

Once Idrees and his wife were left alone in the house, they sat beside each other hand in hand. They looked out of their porch to see the sky so clear and the sun shining so bright.  Since becoming refugees, they worked hard to never be as destitute again as the dust of Kabul was now far from where they were living now. They grew from it and became welcomed members in a new and better society where the woman he loved never needed to hide herself from the world and his son felt free. With a wistful sigh, his wife leaned towards his shoulder.

"Idrees," she began.

"Yes, Parvana?"

"Wouldn't it be nice if this were all real?"

In a flash, there was silence and darkness. Light began to shine again, but it was dull. He couldn't make out a shape as he looked around but his vision started to clear after a while and someone was calling his name over and over. It became louder and it sounded close.

Idrees looked to his side and saw a man who had bandages on his left shoulder.

"There we go," said the man. "Can you see me now?"

Idrees's eyes shifted back and forth and that was all the answer needed.

"Some kind soldiers saw that you're still breathing but very slowly," explained the man. "A bullet merely grazed your rib but you would've bled to death if you weren't found sooner. You're lucky."

He felt the bandages wrapped around his stomach and looked around. He seemed to be in a hospital. Beside him, the man was still talking and he was asked if he had remembered anything. Slowly but surely, he could hear the noise of the battlefield assaulting his ears once more. The explosions, the shooting of guns, and the bullet that he thought would be his downfall.

Idrees quickly sat up and his breathing quickened. The man had to restrain him when he started to panic. He was being told to lie back down and try to calm himself. His troubled mind had regained its consciousness. He couldn't help it.

"No!" he cried. "I'm supposed to die! I'm supposed to be in heaven!"

His outburst caught the attention of doctors. Several hands now attempted to pacify him, pushing his chest down, warning him that he was making his injuries worse. A slap to the face by the man from before finally brought him back to his senses. The doctors were dismissed when they saw that it worked.

"Please stop," begged the man.

"I was going to die there with honor," he said as he began to cry. "Why did you save...?"

His voice trailed off when he carefully looked at the man in front of him. His hands were holding on to his tense shoulders which started to soften.

"I know you," he uttered.

"For once, would you mind keeping it together while you're recovering?" said Razaq with a knowing smile.

Idrees seemed to have followed the request as Razaq recounted that the Taliban was losing its power over the government. Though there still remained enough members to lead an uprising one day, many have lost their lives. Some were no older than Idrees. Razaq felt that it would be foolish to try and fight there again.

"But... what do I do now?" asked Idrees.

"I don't know..." answered Razaq. And he meant it. He spoke for both of them.

Meanwhile, a war had just begun outside their door. It was when Idrees remembered some words from long ago. He began to recite them while Razaq looked on in fascination.

"We are at the edges of empires at war with each other. We are a fractured land in the claws of the Hindu Kush Mountains, scorched by the fiery eyes of the northern desert. Black rubble... black rubble earth..."

Idrees thought long and hard.

"I... can't remember the rest," he finally said.

"It's alright," said Razaq. "It was lovely. I like the part about the fiery eyes and the desert."

> _There is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen._ _  
>  _
> 
> \- Rumi


End file.
